


Star Wars

by WhimsicalEthnographies



Series: The Greatest Game [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: John has a cold, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sick Fic, post-HLV, sherlock has never seen star wars, sherlock is THAT person when watching a movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 05:24:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1928241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhimsicalEthnographies/pseuds/WhimsicalEthnographies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is sick.  Sherlock is annoying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Star Wars

**Author's Note:**

> So, I kinda got the idea for this from [FlyingRotten's](http://flyingrotten.tumblr.com) [comic](http://flyingrotten.tumblr.com/post/76561212567) in which John makes a recovering Sherlock watch the Star Wars movies, and of course he hates them at the beginning (I mean, who doesn’t hate the prequels?) and then by the end he’s in a Boba Fett helmet.
> 
> But I flipped it to John being sick. And Sherlock is bad at watching movies. So really, it's nothing like the comic, except I wanted to credit it because it's where I got those two idiots watching Star Wars from.
> 
> I love Star Wars.

John is sick.

John hates being sick but John is also a real, actual doctor, so it’s not too bad. He knows the standard care for a virus: food, liquids, rest, with some over-the-counter cold medicine on the side. He knows what to look for in case a bacterial infection takes hold, and when he should write himself a prescription for antibiotics. John can handle it when he’s sick.

What is more difficult to handle when he’s sick, is a healthy Sherlock.

Sherlock gets bored and restless when everyone in Baker Street is healthy, but when John has to rest and focus on himself, Sherlock is downright inconsolable.

“John, are you better yet?”

“John, I’m bored.”

“John, I was in the middle of an experiment and I seemed to have glued my hand to the table.”

A few winter colds ago, John had actually gotten so frustrated he was very close to purposely infecting Sherlock just to get him to shut up and sit still—he’s a doctor, he knows incubation periods and how different infections are transmitted and what would be the best period and method to pass his plague on to Sherlock—but he’s a doctor and that’s not a very doctor-y thing to do. Plus, then he’d have to deal with a sick Sherlock and that’s worse than a healthy Sherlock when John’s sick.

This morning he thinks he’s hit the jackpot. Sherlock isn’t home when he wakes up, stuffy and chilled and achy. His throat feels like there are two red-hot golf balls in it. He feels miserable, but he’s certainly felt worse, as he drags himself downstairs and into the bathroom. Not influenza, it’s summer, John is diligent about his flu shots, and he can actually stand and move. Not streptococcal pharyngitis, his throat is swollen but there’s no speckled erythema or white spots. Slightly swollen lymph nodes, mild fever. The thermometer reads 38.1. Bit of a wheeze, no outright coughing. Probably parainfluenza from one of the children in the clinic.

“And now everything in the flat is contaminated.” John murmurs to no one, wincing as he bends over to turn on the shower. He always showers when sick, it makes him feel better. And he feels better knowing he at least has an empty flat to himself for a while, so he can rest without being harassed by a hyperactive genius who needs constant stimulation.

A hot shower later, John settles on the sofa with some supplies. Tea, blankets, pillows, tissues. And still no sign of Sherlock. When he went to the kitchen he found a case of his beer on the counter with a note stuck to it: “At Bart’s. Will need shelf space when I return. SH” John still finds it amusing that Sherlock insists on signing his notes, as if someone else might come into their flat and leave John a note. Of course, John also finds it amusing that Sherlock has even started leaving notes. He can’t even bother to be annoyed that his beer’s shelf is being usurped by a body part in some stage of decomposition. So long as he doesn’t put it in the crisper.

John settles back into his nest of pillows and blankets and flips on the TV. He has an entire day of Star Wars ahead of him. His entire life, whenever he was sick or upset, Star Wars was his go-to remedy. He always started with first and worked his way through the series. Of course, the prequels aren’t very good, but it’s a compulsion that he watch all of them. In order. Thank goodness the Blu Ray player holds ten discs, he doesn’t even need to get up to change them.

Being sick isn’t so bad.

Until, 20 minutes into _Episode I_ , John hears the front door slam and Sherlock pounding up the stairs.

“Oh, Christ.”

Sherlock sweeps into the flat carrying a bag of something John knows would be better suited in a medical waste bin. He goes straight to the fridge and puts it in, then yells, “Tea, John!” before flouncing into his bedroom.

John doesn’t even acknowledge him.

When Sherlock emerges several minutes later, shoes off and dressing gown on.

“John.” He stops in the kitchen. “Where’s the tea?”

John doesn’t answer.

“John,” Sherlock comes into the sitting room. “John, why are you on the couch?”

“Sherlock,” John pauses the movie. “What does it look—aaah, ahhhchooo! What does it look like?”

Sherlock narrows his eyes. “Are you ill?”

“Yes, Sherlock. Now please find something to do and don’t bother me. I need to relax.” John pointedly presses play on the movie and fixes his attention on it. Sherlock frowns, then heads back into the kitchen.

Ten minutes later John hears the kettle whistle. _Hmmm. He can do it himself,_ he thinks to himself. He also wishes he had bothered to ask for a cup. His tea is long gone and he really doesn’t feel like getting up, especially after making a point that he wasn’t getting off the sofa.

“Tea.” Sherlock announces, walking into the sitting room with a tray.

“What’s that?”

“I made tea.” He sets the tray on the table, takes his cup over to his chair.

“You made tea. And brought biscuits.”

“Obviously.” Sherlock snorts. “Perhaps you’ve had too much medication, if that was a difficult conclusion for you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” John sniffs and reaches for a tissue. “I suppose I’ve just gotten so used to you not doing it that I forgot you even knew how to work the kettle.” He takes his tea and tastes it. It’s not very good, too milky, but it’s warm and he didn’t need to get up so it’ll do. Plus, he’s rather touched Sherlock brought him tea without being asked. It’s a very un-Sherlock thing to do.

“What are you watching?”

“Star Wars.”

“It looks terrible.”

“Well, this one is.” John chuckles. “They get better.”

“Mmmm.”

***

“John, why don’t they just kill that lizard thing that’s an incredibly racist attempt at comedic relief?”

***

“John, why would he train the child? Didn’t he hear what the smartest people there said?”

“Because Qui-Jon wanted him to.”

“That won’t end well. I’m calling it.”

***

“John, why can there be only two Sith lords? That isn’t very good planning. What if they both die at the same time?”

***

“John, why is Anakin so sullen and whiney?”

“Oh, like you?”

***

“John, the apple had a bite in it before she actually bit it.”

***

“John, why do some people have American accents and others don’t?”

***

“John, why does the robot cough?”

***

“John, how did they not know she was having twins? It’s a super advanced time with robot doctors.”

***

“John, why is his name ‘Ben’” now?”

“It’s a disguise, Sherlock.”

“It’s not a good one.”

***

“John, a parsec is a unit of distance. Even I know that.”

***

“John, how did his body disappear? None of the other Jedis disappeared.”

***

“Wait, aren’t they brother and sister?”

***

“John, why don’t they just shut that robot off—oh.”

***

“He’s his father?!”

“Sherlock, it’s the most famous twist in movie history, AND you just watched the movie in which he was conceived and born!”

“Oh. Yes.”

“Call and order us some take away, would you? Soup for me.”

***

“John, how does she remember her mother?”

***

“I would think they’d be more disturbed finding out they’re brother and sister.”

***

“Wait, John, why does he want to turn Luke if there can only be two Sith lords?”

***

“And that’s Star Wars.” John flicks off the TV.

“Mmmm.”

“Well?”

“It was remarkably prosaic and the most recently made movies opened up several holes in the plots of the originals. Also, there was no protagonist in the first movies. Who was I supposed to route for? Obi-Wan? Anakin? Padme? And the technology seemed much more primitive in a time supposedly set twenty years later.   Plus, why did they spend so much time on that bounty hunter when they just killed him off in a desert?”

“Jesus, Sherlock. It’s a movie. It’s fun!”

“Oh.” Sherlock shrugs. “I’ll probably delete it.” He looks at John. “Are you feeling better yet?”

“Not especially. I should go to bed, but I don’t think I’ll sleep very well, stuffed up as I am.”

“Mmmm.” Sherlock looks at the floor for a moment, then the blank TV, then back to John. “What movies should we watch now? I’ll make some more tea.” He pushes himself out of his chair and into the kitchen.

“Less milk this time!” John calls, smiling softly as he settles back into the pillows. Maybe Healthy Sherlock isn’t so bad when he’s sick anymore. “Have you ever seen Jaws?”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm an Infection Preventionist, so like John, I'd know how to get Sherlock sick. And side note: if you can get out of bed and essentially don't feel like dying, it's NOT influenza. Influenza will lay a healthy adult up for two weeks with incredible weakness, HIGH fevers, roaring pain and intractable coughing. If you are wondering if maybe you have a "mild" flu, you probably don't have the flu. If you thought you had the flu and it wasn't too bad, it probably wasn't the flu. The flu SUCKS. John didn't have the flu. And while the flu shot isn't the most accurate, it reduces your chances of getting the flu between 60-80%, is incredibly safe, and after having H1N1 in 2009, I know I'll never not get the shot again. AND studies have shown that those who get a shot and then still get lab-confirmed influenza usually have a shorter duration of illness with less viral shedding and reduced symptoms. Plus, you may survive the flu, but you never know who you may give it to who won't. So, if you medically can, get your flu shot.
> 
> John makes the comment about "every surface being contaminated" because parainfluenza is spread by contact--skin to skin or skin to object. Your standard door knob or countertop situation. Influenza is droplet--it must be inhaled or come in contact with a mucus membrane to infect. So, while you could get it from touching a contaminated object, you'd need to immediately transfer the drops into your eyes or mouth or nose. Watching what you touch only does so much with influenza. Neat, huh? IT'S IN THE AIR. Well, for three to six feet.
> 
> Brought to you by an Infection Preventionist who loves Johnlock and hates the flu. :)


End file.
